Cooking with the Captain
by ifancyremus
Summary: Ianto lets Jack help him bake. He then has to face the consequences.
1. Cooking with the Captain

**Author's Note: **Captain Jack Harkness, the sexy Ianto Jones, and all other characters belong to Mr. Russel T. Davies. If they belonged to me, there would be a lot more shagging and a lot less...well, you know what happened. Enjoy!

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"Stop it!"

"Jack, stop!"

"Jack Harkness, if you don't stop getting flour on me, this spoon is going to become quite well acquainted with your arse."

"Is that a promise?" Jack Harkness grinned at the young Welshman whose kitchen he was currently destroying. Boy, did he love riling him up!

Ianto Jones rolled his eyes, but Jack saw them darken slightly as the younger man considered the implications of his comment. Jack leant in towards his ear, and purred "Do you like the idea of being in charge, Mr. Jones?"

It took a few seconds for Ianto's eyes to focus again, but he snapped out of it as he remembered the task at hand. "Jack, Gwen's birthday is tomorrow. I've already had to delay making these cupcakes once today because of that bloody Weevil. I need to get this done!"

Jack pouted, but pecked Ianto on the lips. "That's not what I meant about being assertive," he grumbled. Ianto smirked, but was too absorbed in the recipe to comment.

"Alright, now that all of the dry ingredients have been mixed, we move on to the wet ones..." Ianto bent down and started shifting things around in the refrigerator. "I'd have had everything set out already if you hadn't insisted on getting that sodding coat covered in blood again; the dry-cleaners is halfway across-AH!" Ianto yelped as Jack's hand came in contact with his pants. "I almost spilt the milk, Jack!"

"It's not my fault! You're bum was raised in the air, just waiting to be smacked! If you weren't so damn irresistible..."

Ianto rolled his eyes as he pushed past Jack, but the Captain detected a faint blush splashed across his neck. Jack smiled at the thought that he put it there. The young man really didn't get enough credit, for any of his assets, not just his ass.

He was jerked out of his reverie by Ianto's hand waving in front of his face. "Earth to Jack. Do you ever pay attention?"

"What?" he mumbled, a bit disoriented.

Ianto raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "I asked if you could get me two eggs? The carton's in the door."

"Oh, of course." Jack retrieved the eggs, then brought them to Ianto, looking excited.

"Oh no, you are NOT cracking the eggs, Jack. I already had to clean up the coffee beans you spilt all over the floor. It's your fault that you're falling asleep standing up," he scolded.

Jack's lower lip twitched and his eyes widened. His puppy-dog face didn't hold a finger to Gwen's, but Ianto still had trouble resisting it at the best of times. And, right now, a large part of Ianto's brain was occupied with thoughts of how much he wanted to drop everything and get Jack onto the bedroom. Ruddy pheromones. "Fine, Jack. One egg! But, if you screw up, you don't get to help me mix."

All signs of sadness fell from Jack's face as he snatched an egg off of the counter. Ianto had to remind himself that he was the young one in this...whatever this was. (Relationship? Partnership?) The older man could act like such a child.

Jack's tongue poked out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on not ruining his chances. He swiftly brought the egg down against the side of the bowl, and the egg yolk slid into the mixture, amazingly free of pieces of shell.

Ianto tried not to look too impressed as he grabbed the remaining egg and brought it down against the bowl. Unfortunately for him, it was at that exact moment that Jack decided that Ianto's neck needed attention. Specifically from his tongue. Ianto's hand slipped, which resulted in his palm, fingers, and right shoe being covered in egg.

"Damnit, Jack! Look what you've done!" But Jack was too busy laughing his balls off to look guilty. "What's so funny?"

"You mean to tell me that you don't see the irony in the situation? That I bested you in the art of egg cracking? C'mon, Ianto. You have to admit that it's at least a tiny bit funny."

Ianto's frown was a bit less effective because of the twitching that his lips insisted upon, and the searing vehemence of his glare was betrayed by a twinkle in his eyes. Ok, it was a bit funny.

He washed his hands and toed off his shoes. After he added the rest of the ingredients, he passed the bowl to Jack, who mixed it without incident. Ianto lightly applauded his success, which made both of them burst out laughing. Ianto poured the batter into the tin, and stuck it into the oven.

"You know, Jack. We have a half hour to ourselves while these bake...Would you like to try an experiment?"

Jack, who was busy licking the spoon, raised his eyebrows in consideration, and grinned at the young Welshman. "Why, Ianto Jones! If I didn't know you better, I'd have assumed that you planned this all along."

Ianto smirked. "You know me, always one step ahead."

Ianto expected Jack to leap at the opportunity, but he was surprised by the sensation of gooey cake batter on his ear, followed by Jack's tongue doing its best to clean it off.

"Jack, you do know that's raw egg, right?" Ianto panted. "That can't be sanitar-"

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Jack crushed his lips against Ianto's, effectively cutting him off. Ianto grabbed his stopwatch off of the bookshelf and set it for 30 minutes before they rushed into the bedroom, shedding clothes in their wake. Ianto's last coherent thought was that he didn't really mind cooking with Captain Jack Harkness.

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**Author's Note Part II: **Any reviewers will receive an amazingly delicious cupcake, accompanied by a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee. All made by Ianto of course. Jack wasn't allowed to help.


	2. Distractions

**Author's Note: **Captain Jack Harkness, the sexy Ianto Jones, and all other characters belong to Mr. Russel T. Davies. If they belonged to me, there would be a lot more shagging and a lot less...well, you know what happened. Enjoy!

* * *

"So, Ianto, where are these amazing cupcakes that Jack's been going on about for-let's see-3 weeks now?" Owen's sarcasm was obvious, but Ianto could tell that he really wanted to try the baked goods.

"I believe the phrase I used was 'almost as good as Ianto' when I described them," Jack grinned at the Welshman as he walked by, then returned his focus to Owen, who raised an eyebrow.

"I know what you said-we heard it enough. No matter how much you want me, I don't swing that way, mate. I'd rather not sound like a poof while discussing cupcakes. So I'm not comparing them to Teaboy over there." The cynical man smirked, and Jack leered. The two were entering their usual routine.

"I don't think I would have to be too persuasive to get you into my bed, Harper," Jack began, but a cough from Ianto cut him off.

Jack pouted- baiting Owen was so much fun!- but turned away from the doctor. "No fair! He started it!"

Owen looked between the lovers, taking a moment before coming to his conclusion. "You're whipped, mate!" He started to laugh, and doubled over at the shocked, indignant look on Jack's face. The older man spluttered, and was about to reply, when Ianto effectively stopped the conversation, arriving in the autopsy bay with coffee and a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I can honestly say that Jack has no qualms when it comes to whips. I thought we deleted the CCTV footage from last week?" The Welshman couldn't resist looking up to see the shocked expression on the young doctor's face. It soon turned into a mask of disgust.

"Listen you two. No matter how much I like sex, I'd rather not hear about other people's bedroom antics-"

Owen was cut off by the loud noise and bright flash of light that accompanied the arrival of Tosh and Gwen.

"Did Owen say sex? Did he catch you two in the autopsy bay again?" Gwen giggled at the thought.

Owen spluttered. "The autopsy bay? You've done it...I work...Do you know how unsanitary that is?"

Ianto rolled his eyes, trying to appear nonchalant even while a blush was creeping up his neck. "Of course I do, Owen. I'm the one who cleans this place, remember?"

Tosh chuckled as she approached the group, taking her coffee from Ianto. "Shall I get the retcon, Owen?" she asked sympathetically as Gwen sauntered over, tossing her coat and bag onto her desk as she passed it.

"I may have to take you up on that, Tosh," Owen grimaced before turning to his other female colleague. "If it isn't the birthday girl! Another year full of mistakes to put behind you. Here's to many more to come."

"Thanks, Owen," Gwen rolled her eyes, but affectionately punched her cynical friend in the arm. She knew he meant well, despite being a twat.

The other members of the team wished Gwen a happy birthday, the phrase "birthday suit" being used by Jack, though it was the recipient's fiery, vulgar response in Welsh that chastised him rather than Ianto's pointed look. Tosh looked over all of the normal rift-monitoring programs and noted that the day looked to be rather uneventful. Everyone settled around the sofa, and Ianto brought out the traditional birthday beers, though Jack emphasised that each of them were only allowed one. They were still on call, after all.

"Oi, Teaboy! You never answered me about those cupcakes! I'm getting hungry."

"I honestly question how you survive on your own sometimes, Owen," Ianto deadpanned. Though rolling his eyes, he promptly rose and headed to the tourist office, returning with a plastic container of pastries, which were obviously from a shop.

The girls shrugged and started eating, but Owen was like a dog with a bone, not leaving the matter be.

"What happened to the homemade wonders we were meant to sample? Did Mr. Organization forget something?"

Ianto glared at the snippy man, but his face and ears flushed crimson. "I was...busy last night." The memory of Jack's tongue evoking tantalizing feelings rushed to the front of his mind. There was still a bit of cake batter in his ear. How had he missed it in the shower? His blush deepened as he remembered that his attention hadn't been on getting clean that morning. Wet skin against skin, hot water and equally warm flesh...

"Earth to Ianto! I asked what the hell could keep you busy for that long? Were you cleaning instead of cooking? Filing instead of frosting?" The Welshman cleared his throat and returned his attention to Owen. He fumbled for a response.

But then Jack cut in, and Ianto knew he was doomed. "Actually, he was moaning instead of mixing. Apparently I'm so distracting that even Father Time over here can't tell when it's been a half hour. Let me tell you, the smell of burning cupcakes really ruins the mood."

Ianto put his face in his hands and decided that eye-contact with his coworkers wasn't necessary in his position. Meanwhile, Tosh and Gwen were giggling like schoolgirls, Owen was spluttering, and Jack, the bastard, was smirking and looking quite pleased with himself.

After a much too long pause, Gwen coughed and, blushing, said "I'm sure they would've been lovely, Ianto. It's the thought that counts. Thank you."

Tosh seemed ready to add her comments, but one look at Owen's expression sent her into another fit of giggles. Meanwhile, the obviously scarred man kept opening and closing his mouth, looking quite like a fish during his uncharacteristic speechlessness. Finally, he stood up and walked away. He was almost to the door when Tosh had enough air to ask him where he was going.

"I'm off to get pissed. Then I'm taking retcon. I'm not taking any chances that I'll remember this conversation."

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**Author's Note Part II: **Any reviewers will receive gifts from the entire team for their next birthday. One of which may be a distraction. ;)


End file.
